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“Creaky floorboards.” He gestured upstairs.
“Ah.” She looked amused by the explanation, but still she stayed close to the doorway, eyeing him across the kitchen, her hands pushed into the pockets of her jeans.
Did he make her feel awkward?
He closed the space between them, lifted her chin with one finger and kissed her mouth in greeting. She responded, her hands stroking his upper arms, circling his biceps. When her lips parted and her body arched against his, her breasts squashed against his chest. His cock hardened. He held her arms and pressed her back against the door frame. Kissing her more deeply, he almost forgot that he had planned to talk to her, to get her onboard with his plans. That goal faded for a moment because all he wanted to do was lift her and open her legs around his hips so that he could have her up against the wall, right there and then.
Something that sounded like a whimper escaped her and he pulled back. She looked up at him with rounded eyes, her pupils dilated, her luscious lips swollen and damp.
He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “Would you like me to leave?”
It was the last thing he wanted to say. He simply had to be around her in order to find out what was going on here. She was a crucial part of something he needed to understand. However, his father had drummed good manners into him. That meant that he didn’t want her to feel awkward, even if it put their connection at risk. It had to be her decision to keep him around, just as it had had to be her invitation through the door, the night before. Once she’d done that, he could take charge. Gentleman’s rules, after all.
“Oh, no, please don’t go.” She smiled, her expression softening, the hesitancy he’d sensed in her evaporating. “I’m just not used to this.” She gestured at the table, where he’d laid two places with cutlery, mugs, a jug of milk and a pot of tea.
“You don’t eat breakfast?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Her eyelids lowered as she said that.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
She nodded, and took a seat. “My sister found this place, but she didn’t tell me it came with a sexy man included.”
“It does if you want it to,” he responded. “One-time offer though, just for you.”
This might not be as hard as he thought. Of course, he still had to explain to her why he wanted to hang around. He turned his attention to the range. Once he’d served up the griddled bacon and softly scrambled eggs, he carried the plates over to the table. She was pouring the tea. There was a smile playing around her mouth. The domesticated picture amused her. He wasn’t used to it either, but he didn’t want her to know that, not right now. He caught the bread just as it popped out of the toaster, set it on a plate, and put it on the table.
She had her hands wrapped around the mug of tea and was sipping from it as she watched him. “Mmm, this looks so good. Thank you for goin
g to so much trouble. Was all of this left by the owner, Elspeth?”
“No, I ran next door for the marmalade and the tea.”
“I’ll have to return the favor while I’m here.”
“Sounds good to me.” He grabbed the salt and pepper pot from the side of the range and put them on the table. Everything was to hand, so he took his seat opposite her.
“Being in Carbrey must be very different to life in Edinburgh,” she said.
“Yes, it is. When I’m there my life is ruled by the academic timetable and my commitments at the university. I work at a different pace here. I was brought up in the capital and it’s the place I know best, but my mother came from this part of the world. I learn about her whenever I’m here. It makes my work all the more rewarding.”
It was why he had applied for the research project in the first place, but he didn’t need to explain that. Nevertheless, when he saw the question in her eyes, he felt the need to explain a bit more. “I didn’t know my mother. My dad raised me.”
She looked at him, thoughtfully. “Well, that’s something we have in common. I never knew my dad. It was my mother who brought us up.”
“Coincidence. You have a sister, I recall?”
“Yes.” She seemed pleased that he remembered. “It’s more unusual,” she added, “for a single parent to be the dad.”
“Yes, indeed. My dad didn’t agree with the way she lived her life, so—with her blessing—he brought me up alone.”
“That must have been tough on you.”
He hadn’t meant to say so much about himself, and he certainly didn’t want her to guess he was torn between a culture that espoused witchcraft, and one that dismissed it. But it was no bad thing that they had shared this much. He wanted to gain her trust, he needed to.
“Can you feel it?” He gestured with his hand, glancing around the walls. “House feels different—” he looked back at her “—since last night.”
She buttered a piece of toast while she considered his comment. “I don’t understand.”
